


Memories and Dreams

by Snape_Granger



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alpha/Omega, Blackcest (Harry Potter), F/F, Femslash, Foursome - F/F/F/F, Girl Penis, Good Albus Dumbledore, Lesbian Character, Lesbian Sex, Minerva McGonagall & Severus Snape Friendship, Parent Minerva McGonagall, Protective Minerva McGonagall, Threesome - F/F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-21
Updated: 2021-01-21
Packaged: 2021-03-13 02:08:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28895625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Snape_Granger/pseuds/Snape_Granger
Summary: Memories, dreams or an overactive imagination has plagued Hermione's unconscious since she could remember. The strange dreamscape she enters every night shows two women living out their lives, mostly erotic in nature. Follow Hermione as she begins to unravel the truth behind the memories and tries to cope with coming into her Veela inheritance.
Relationships: Bellatrix Black Lestrange & Narcissa Black Malfoy & Andromeda Black Tonks, Bellatrix Black Lestrange/Narcissa Black Malfoy, Hermione Granger/Bellatrix Black Lestrange, Hermione Granger/Narcissa Black Malfoy
Comments: 14
Kudos: 151





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story may take over my Undesirable story or maybe not. I'm not 100% sure, I may just keep both. 
> 
> Sex is a big theme of this story. Femslash and Blackcest through out. Don't like don't read.

Memories, dreams or an overactive imagination had ultimately stolen years of precious sleep. The dreamscape had made itself known at a young age, the strange rather erotic images that played out every night on a daily basis left the young brunette displaying concerning behaviour and at times inappropriate conduct among her peers.

The first real incident happened during break time at primary school in her 4th year. Hermione to her acknowledgement didn’t realise the her actions that day would have severe consequences. Harsh judgement from outsiders and horrified stares from her peer group.

The dreams that continued to plague her had become a safety net. While she didn’t understand the significance surrounding that world she did find them comforting and familiar.

After being bribed shamelessly by her worried mother she conceded into seeing the countless psychiatrics that came a regular occurrence in her childhood years. None had an answer to give, neither did they understand the way Hermione refused to indulge the nature of the dreams. They did come to a conclusion that her intelligence surpassed her peers and believed she had become tedious with the world around her that she had invented up fantasies to cope with the mundane reality.

Her parents took the information with a pinch of salt. Their daughter was many things, a fantasist wasn’t one of them. So they watched with growing fear of their only child withdrawing from the world around her to further isolate herself into her mind.

Not only was her inappropriate behaviour worrying, since she was a baby strange things would happen around her. Jean had caught the young child using supernatural means to reach for a book out of her reach. Her temper tantrums resulted in shattered windows and the electronics around their home would short circuit.

Two years later and still no answers the Granger family found themselves at wits end. Jean’s frustrations at the lack of help resulted in numerous arguments between herself and her husband Graham. The gentle man she had fell in love with had started to vanish hours on end, his disappearance from their home had gone unnoticed by their daughter. His stoic attitude towards her increasing suspicions at reached an impasse. Graham’s cryptic reply remained the same ‘you’ll understand soon'.

Soon came in the form of a tall brown haired woman dressed in particular emerald green robes and a black pointed hat perched upon her head.

“Good morning Dr Granger, I believe your husband Graham is expecting my visit.” The Scottish undertones relaxed Jean enough to invite the woman into her home, so mystified by her presence she hadn’t asked for her name.

Graham greeted the visitor with familiarity of an old friend. “Minerva, I’m glad to see you again. This is my wife Jean and our daughter Hermione.”

The 10 year old brunette was seated on the window seat with to Jean’s horror was greedily soaking up one of her guilty pleasures. A lesbian pornographic magazine that the older brunette kept hidden in the back of her closet.

“Hermione Granger.” She scolded the barely aware girl, snatching the glossy pages away from her daughter. In her hurry to hide the filth she accidentally backed into the woman, Minerva who in a flash of an eye gripped her hips to stop her descent. Not expecting warm hands to touch her skin she had dropped the magazine at their feet.

Minerva once sure that the younger woman was steady, she bent down to pick up the dropped possession. The imagine of two naked women entwined on the front page caught her eye, years of experience at catching hormonal teenagers in awkward situations around her school had built up the neutral mask that remained on her face.

“I understand from Graham that you’ve exhausted all other venues before desperation had him seeking out our help.” Not waiting for a reply, she turned to the silent brunette who to Minerva seemed lost in thought, her bottom lip clenched unnervingly between her teeth. “We have been given permission to offer Hermione a place at our school a year earlier than usually accepted.” She quickly unseated her wand from her arm holster.

The strange but familiar wooden stick in the stranger’s hand caught Hermione’s undivided attention. In the dreams that tool was used to perform spectacular pieces of magic, a wand that’s what her dream called it, the women that frequented her unconsciousness used the wand to dissolve their clothes leaving them naked. The dark haired woman would then press the slender stick between the blonde’s thighs.

The floating couch brought her crashing back to reality. Her heart racing at the two women writhing and moaning.

“I can do that but not with a wand,” Hermione surprised herself by hearing her voice echo around the room.

Minerva released the spell, turning in stunned disbelief to the smiling muggleborn. “How did you know that Hermione?”

The girl shrugged returning to her seat. The smile gone replaced by a dazed look as she stared out the window.

“Your daughter is a witch and it’s my pleasure to formally invite Miss Granger to Hogwarts of witchcraft and wizardry where she will learn to control her magic and understand the wizarding world.” She politely informed the nervous mother.

Jean looked ready to pass out at any moment. Minerva had seen that disbelieving glazed look on many muggle parents, she didn’t quite understand it herself seeing as the families knew their child/children struggled to fit into the world around them and or displayed unexplainable moments that could not be otherwise explained by muggle science. In more extreme cases parents or carers would consult with a priest of questionable religion prompting the death of the young witch or wizard by the form of exorcism. Minerva found that barbaric and utterly heartbroken.

“Hermione is a witch love. I know this is hard to believe but trust me this is the only way to help her,” Graham added, bringing his tearful wife into his arms. “She will be safe at Hogwarts and maybe, just maybe we’ll get the answers we've been searching for.”

Jean sniffled, stiffly sitting on the couch with her head in her hands. “How do you know all this Graham? Were you ever going to tell me about this magical world?” she brokenly asked her pale husband.

Graham gingerly sat next to Jean. “I come from a long line of purebloods,” the confused stare from Jean made his heart sink. “Purebloods are families that come from a long line of magical folk but in increasing cases like myself I was born a squib, a child born from two magical parents that have low magical reserves that they can’t tap into.” Minerva could hear her old friends bitterness rear its ugly head once again.

“Your parents never invited me to their home, not once in the fifteen years we have been married.”

Graham sadly nodded. “When I said it was difficult to find I was telling the truth. My family’s estate is hidden in the magical world under heavy wards that prevent muggles, non magical folk and blood wards to stop invited guests in accessing the grounds.”

Minerva stepped away from the couple and taking a seat on the bench beside Hermione.

“I had a great childhood, my parents never resented my unfortunate birth, they loved me just as much as my older sisters Apolline and Juliana. I was raised in France by my mother Tatiana and our clan leader and mother Celeste unlike myself most squibs are cast out into the muggle world like day old trash. Hated by society, a burden on the ministry of magic.” He fondly smiled at the mention of his family. “You met both my mothers and they love you Jeanie. I suppose you could say I wasn’t born from a pureblood family in the sense of the Malfoys and the Blacks..”

Hermione’s head shot up at her fathers words. Blacks, that name was so familiar to her. Minerva noticed the subtle changes in the girl at the mere mention of the oldest and purest pureblooded Houses.

“I’m from a long line of Veela, only the girls inherit the magical creature that hides beneath their skins. Creatures that are beautiful as they are deadly... I didn’t think Hermione would be magical let alone inherit the Veela but I’m starting to doubt that now.”

That was six years ago and the last conversation she had with her parents. The last time she saw them alive just before a car crash took them away from her permanently.

Professor McGonagall had helped pack up her belongings that very same day and took her to a new world full of magic. Magic that was neither ‘light’ nor ‘dark'. A world full of hatred and pain and it seemed a world that didn’t accept her.

So here she was six years on, orphaned and friendless, well not friendless she was just specific about who she spent time around. Her only escape was the still unexplained dreams of the two erotic women that haunted her every night. She wanted to find the two witches, to know if they were real or she was losing her mind but try as she might the problem with the dreams she couldn’t pick out the finer details, couldn’t describe the women beyond the colour of their hair and the husky voices that cooed in her ears each time they visited.

A loud clang interrupted her thoughts, blinking away the haze that had fallen over her eyes she grimaced in dismay at the sight of Ronald Weasley shovelling handfuls of chocolate cake into his mouth.

The redheaded wizard was a bloody menace that took great delight in making her life a misery just by mimicking an farmyard animal eating at its troth. The youngest Weasley boy was best friends to Harry Potter, the boy who lived to be a pain in her ass. The messy haired bespectacled wizard was busy reading the daily prophet unaware of her scrutiny.

The front page caught her eye.

The ministry of magic publicly apologies for the wrongly imprisonment of Sirius Black and Lucius Malfoy.

A grey and white wizarding picture below the headline showed the snarling face of Sirius Black. A man convicted in his early twenties for the slaughter of a dozen muggles and a former friend Peter Pettigrew.

The other picture showed a tall regal man dressed in finely made robes, his left hand leaning on a cane, the head craved into a serpent. Lucius Malfoy had been convicted for the torture of two well known Aurors, Alice and Frank Longbottom sixteen years ago who to this day remained long term patients in the Janus Thickey Ward for the insane. Not that anyone actually called it that.

Harry grumbled unintelligibly as she screwed up the newspaper in disgust. She remembered hearing around the common room in Gryffindor tower that Sirius was his godfather, the man had managed to escape the supposedly inescapable fortress of Azkaban.

A slight hitch to her right made her look away to meet the distraught face of Neville Longbottom. She knew Neville well, the boy was timid and blundered his way through most of his classes all expect Herbology. Herbology class was where he shone brighter than anyone in their year. He was kind hearted and a dear friend to Hermione. She felt bad for him that the man responsible for taking away his parents was now free.

Lucius Malfoy was a pureblooded aristocrat that favoured the apparent ‘dark' side led by a foul wizard commonly known as Lord Voldemort. A man that resembled a snake with legs, his face grey and flat resulting from his rebirth two years ago.

She involuntarily shivered at the horrid event that had taken place that year. She was a year younger than those in her year but her maturity made up for it which is how Harry survived the three deadly tasks that pitted three chosen champions against one another. It had supposed to be restricted to students over seventeen but somehow the chosen one had his name removed from the goblet of fire and represented Hogwarts much to the complaining and mocking of most of their fellow peers led unsurprisingly by Slytherin house and their self appointed president Draco Black.

One upside of fourth year she had finally met her father’s family in person. Since first year she had exchanged letters via owl to the Delacour clan in France. She had met her cousins Fleur and Gabrielle with slight apprehension but the moment the younger sibling had came bouncing up to her with such childish enthusiasm that only an 8 year old could get away with Hermione couldn’t help but let her walls crumble down around her heart.

At the last challenge of the tournament Fleur introduced her mother, Hermione’s aunt Apolline and their grandmere Celeste and her mate Tatiana. All three older Veelas had embraced the bookworm with open arms and welcomed her into their family.

Hermione was meant to meet them at the funeral of her parents but the then 10 year old witch hadn’t been functional enough to attend the send off so in her absence Professor McGonagall and Headmaster Dumbledore attended on her behalf. Albus and Minerva had afterwards graciously accepted the lioness into their lives and formally adopted the young brunette as their granddaughter.

Another obnoxious clanging sound erupted outside the Great Hall. The students and staff turned towards the large double doors just in time to see the caretaker Argus Filch scuttle in, his spiteful furball of a cat Mrs Norris was trailing after him.

“What on Merlin’s name is the matter Mr Filch?” the Headmaster met the pale faced squib halfway down the isle that separated the Slytherin and Gryffindor House tables.

Before the out of breath caretaker could deem a response the sound of something hard was clicking on the stone floor, seconds later the face of Lucius Malfoy in all his former glory.

“Good evening Albus.” The tone of his voice did not convey his polite greeting.

The man was a pompous bastard that deserved to rot in the cold dank cell that he had somehow managed to crawl out of.

“Lucius I wasn’t aware of any scheduled appointment between us that would lead you to..”

The rest of the conversation was abruptly cut off as the doors swiftly shut behind the men.

“Fucking hell who the hell let that scum to roam the halls?” Ronald spluttered out breaking the uncomfortable silence that had rocked the Hall.

Hermione rolled her eyes. Though she did agree with his sentiment, she wouldn’t of used such vulgar language in the presence of impressionable first years. First years who right then looked rather scandalous at the crude words. “Language Ronald.”

The redheaded wizard had the grace to blush. “Sorry Mione."

“It is rather particular that a man who has just been released from prison this morning would be at Hogwarts. Seeing as his seat on the board of governors were evoked along with his Head of House status.” Hermione loudly mused.

Harry shrugged. “Wouldn’t be surprised if he’s here to cause trouble.”

That trouble came two days later via a large black European eagle owl swooping low over the heads of the red and gold table.

The large predator landed with a thud by Hermione’s breakfast. His golden eyes leering at the bacon on her plate, she sighed giving the owl the bacon as she gently detached the glossy envelope from its neck.

“Thank you Mr owl.” He blinked owlishly in reply and with a loud hoot, the bird flew off.

_**Miss Hermione Granger** _

_**You have been cordially invited to this years Black Ball on 21 st \- 28th December. You are expected to stay the week at Black manor where a set of rooms have been provided for you.** _

_**Yours** _

_**N.B & A.B & B.B** _

_**The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black.** _

_**Toujours Purs** _

“What the hell does that mean?” Ron demanded stabbing a dirty finger at the Black motto.

Rolling her eyes at the ridiculous motto. “It’s French for ‘Always Pure’.” A very pureblooded house motto if she had ever heard of one.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short sexual content. Personally I find using 'pussy' and 'cock' a bit wince worthy but I still used them as it's just for the smut scenes.

The need to please, the need to obey had turned from a gentle praise from her loving parents and authority figures to a deep unsatisfied longing that turned her on, painfully so from her nightly visitors in her mind the moment she had turned sixteen.

The blonde boy at her side nervously fidgeting in his seat. The uncharacteristic behaviour of the pureblooded Black was amusingly funny compared to the dull repetitive attitude he displayed in the halls at school. Part of her didn’t actually blame him for acting outrageously incompetent to fly under the radar among their peers, the rumours that travelled around the drafty castle concerning the young Black differed every other day.

One such rumour was the circumstances of his birth. His mother had an affair with her sister resulting in Draco’s conception. That was hilariously inaccurate as it was a cheap shot at the stubborn heir. The boy had Malfoy written all over his sharp features and his haughty attitude and of course she had during one of her excessive library dates alone with her beloved books had led her to read about the sacred twenty eight, practically royalty in the wizarding world. Lucius had sired the boy, playing father for a year before his sorry ass was thrown into the dementors paradise to then be raised by his mother and aunts.

“How has school been treating you so far nephew?” Andromeda drawled, her tone bored and her scrutinising grey orbs focused on Hermione.

Draco swallowed his mouthful. “Could be better I suppose. The idiots at that blasted place has come up with more imaginative rumours as of late.” He replied in the same dry tone.

It seemed to be a common affair in this family. Did no one at this table besides herself know an emotion besides complete and utter boredom.

“Pray tell, what’s the worst?”

The blonde placed down his fork, a complete look of concentration took over his silvery eyes. “Ah, I think this one came from Weasel actually. Apparently I’m indulging in immoral behaviour with all three Black sisters, from the gossip I would say we’re having an all out incest party every night when I’m here.”

Andromeda’s full pink lips twitched in amusement. Hermione noticed the pink stain on the rim of her tumbler of whiskey, the perfect indentation of her kissable lips. She wondered what they tasted like, felt like against her own. As if hearing her thoughts the middle sister turned a mischievous smirk on the newest addition in their family home.

“I have heard so much about you ma cherie, I wonder if any of it is true or a fabrication of your achievements,” the once dry tone turned silky and low.

Hermione stiffened under the three curious sets of eyes boring into her very soul. Since her arrival she hadn’t heard a peep out of either Lady Narcissa and Lady Bellatrix, one light to the darkness of the other. They seemed oddly familiar, like she had met them before.

Lady Narcissa had long blonde hair, crystal blue eyes and a perfect hourglass figure that had her drooling at the sight of her black laced formfitting robes encasing her full chest.

Lady Andromeda had dark curls and grey eyes that held her attention the moment they were introduced to. The woman was curvier than the blonde and deliciously so. She wore more masculine clothing, the white high collared shirt was barely buttoned, showing her cleavage and erect dark nipples that poked through the flimsy material, she wore black breeches with matching black braces that further pulled attention towards her chest.

Lady Bellatrix was the oldest sister with her jet black hair that resembled Hermione’s bushy curls. Her grey eyes had never left her since arriving. The woman wore to her surprise tightfitting Auror regulated robes, the badges of honour and her rank dotted her shoulders much like muggle military officers wore.

Draco in a charitable mood had mentioned on the train ride over that his mother and aunt Bellatrix would be on their best behaviour as long as she showed them respect, both to be called by their title until such a time they deemed it unnecessary. His aunt Andromeda on the other hand rarely replied to her given title and out of spite would ignore the fool attempting to gain her favour, so Hermione was to call her Andy if she wished to remain unharmed during her week long visit. One thing Draco didn’t have an answer for was the rather abrupt request or demand as she reread the letter later on when he had accosted her in the hall demanding to know why he had to escort the girl to his home later that week.

What worried her was Draco had no plans on staying and was returning to the castle later that night. Leaving her in the company of three intimidating women that looked like they had just stepped off a catwalk.

Something warm and tingly slithered through her mind. She wasn’t naive enough not to understand that one of the women was attempting to Legilimency on her and unfortunately she had found Occlumency to be far to advanced to try it alone without someone experienced to help her through both spells. Her mind was an open book for any mind reader to take advantage of.

The flash of her dreams reared up to the front of her minds eye.

A recent dream started to play out for her. All she needed was popcorn and it would be like she was at a muggle cinema.

“You smell absolutely divine pet” the dark haired woman purred. She forced her hardened cock into the blondes pussy. The squelch of wet muscle stretching to accommodate her girth was music to her ears.

The blonde woman was on her knees panting in arousal. Her bare breasts bouncing with each hard thrust from the witch behind her. “Fuck me..”

The smell of sex and burning candle invaded her nostrils, liquid fire heating her wet core, squeezing her thighs together.

Then all of a sudden the incredibly arousing scene was gone. The intruder vanishing from her mind completely leaving behind a soft husky chuckle in their departure.

Hermione blinked, her pussy ached painfully. She was horny and frustrated.

Blue mesmerising eyes darkened, the small back pupils widening. A slight curve to her ruby red lips sent bolts of pleasure between the virgin witch’s legs.

Something primal was clawing at her mind. Something was telling her to bare her throat at the dominating blonde woman, to let her claim what was hers.

Those blue eyes travelled to the creaky flesh of her neck. Perfect white teeth biting her bottom lip, a drop of blood then a long tongue licking the spilt life force away.

**Mine.**

**Yours.**

Two words echoed around her skull, one she uttered on command after the sultry voice whispered first.

Hermione gripped her knees under the table. She nearly jumped out her seat at the bare foot brushing up her leg. A manic giggle forced her to look in the direction of the oldest Black sister. Lady Bellatrix had a child like grin plastered on her dark stained lips, her full teeth on show.

**Mine.**

Hermione’s head started to throb, she whipped around to the predatory like stare of the blonde hurting her prey. 

**Mine.**

**Yours.**

Hermione swallowed her gasp of pleasure at the tantalising ghostly tendrils crept up her quivering thighs. The tendrils moved in time with Lady Narcissa’s fingers that danced on the side of her wine glass.

The tendrils grazed her clothed pussy, pressing firmly against the tiny bundle of nerves.

**Mine.**

Lady Narcissa took her finger between her lips, the feel of a warm wet tongue licking up her soaked slit nearly made her lose all sense of control.

Hermione just barely noticed that Lady Bellatrix had left the table while Draco and Andromeda were engaged in a lively debate about, well she didn’t know all she could feel, all she could think about was the devilish tongue pleasuring her aching core.

**Mine.**

**Yours.**

**Good girl.**

The words stretched, widened then suddenly they popped. The popping startled her awake, the breath from her lungs dying out. The shadows seem to be warping themselves around the tall menacing presence hovering over her bed.

The high pitch scream worthy of shattering glass a lone tore out of her throat as ice cold hands pierced her heaving chest.

She thrashed against the strong arms pinning her down, coppery blood flooded her mouth. She felt herself choking on each intake of breath, she wheezed sounding like a rattlesnake.

Her chest hurt, she was numb maybe, she couldn’t think. Icy popsicles peeled her heavy lids open meeting the fiery red eyes gazing back at her. The strange woman had no mouth, the stretched skin was ghastly. Stench of death wafting from her made Hermione’s stomach churn.

**Mine.**

Her rolls eyed to the back of her head. Her body slumped into the darkness , her mind following shortly after.


End file.
